Know Who I Am
by JadenTheFangirl
Summary: When the demons are gone, Sam has a grasp on life again, and Castiel is free to be in heaven again; what is there left? Dean's not so sure anymore. But he assume he has to let everyone else be happy, and learn to be alone. But no one's ever truly happy, are they? Castiel knows that well. Being back in heaven isn't what he wants. But what he wants, he can't have... Can he?
1. Chapter 1

**[DISCLAIEMER: No, I do not own these characters or the plots in any way, only my ideas. Also, warning; planned slash, possible future smut, and spoilers and assumed plot courses of season 8. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND INFORMED. Enjoy~]**

**Chapter** 1

The older Winchester sat on the motel-room bed, looking at his cell, his mind nearly blank. He didn't know what to do much anymore and he hated it. He went through his contacts, finding the B's. Bobby…

No, there would be no one answering. Yes, the phone would be ringing in the glove compartment of his car. That didn't mean he still couldn't call, could he? He had to vent to someone who'd understand, even if he'd get no advice; even if he wouldn't get grilled out for being a sap, and even if the last words he heard would be the insulting yet endearing 'idjit'. It was more the thought of previous comfort.

Finally, after minutes of silently staring at the number, and with his thoughts assaulting his mind, Dean finally pressed the call button. It rung for a moment, ending with Bobby's message, before the beep for leaving a message sounded.

"Hey, Bobby…I…I got a problem." He spoke silently, watching his feet that rested on the carpeted floor. He gave a weak chuckle. "I know; I always seem to have those… But…I don't have anyone else to tell them to, you know?"

There was silence that tightened his chest, but he just took a breath and continued, not letting it affect him. "…We closed the gates. Finally, we closed them… No more demons, all we have to deal with is the few monsters still running rampant. And even they seem to have gone into hiding, killing less to keep a low profile; they know their asses are the main targets now." He laughed, and lay back on the bed. "..So, just a few jobs here and there… Sammy's back to college now, though he sends me info on potential jobs. He even spares time to come along, every now and then. I know, I know—I need to be getting off my lazy ass and look for myself, but bite me; Sam doesn't contact me for anything else."

It was times like these he wished he hadn't tossed away the necklace Sam had given him for Christmas so long ago. But he couldn't dwell on it, and so he didn't.

"Cas is livin' it up with the angels again. He's made amends, I think…and they've let him back in heaven. I don't know what he's really doing up there, but I'm guessing he's happy, since he ain't here." For a moment, Dean let it sink in…just how lonely he was. Sam was at college, living his preferred life. Castiel was back in heaven with his brothers and sisters. And he was leaving messages for Bobby, who had long been dead. He wondered just why he was so alone, before he continued to get to his problem. "Look…I.. Bobby, I don't know…what to do anymore. It's all… It's all…" he sighed, sitting up then.

He stood and began pacing the motel room. "It's tame, it's nearly paradise compared to what it was before. I've…I've even seen Lisa and Ben, went to visit and passed by… They seemed happy. But…it feels like there's nothing else." He stopped his pacing as he stopped before the window, glancing out and watching the passerby's outside. They either drove on, drove it, conversed or continued on about their days. "I have nothing, Bobby. Sam's gone, Lisa's forgotten me, you're dead, and Castiel's back in heaven. There's barely any jobs and I…I don't know who I am anymore. Bobby, I don't know-"

There was a beep that signified that the message was over its limit. It was then that the reality threatened to shatter the guard Dean always built around his mind when he wanted to stay strong. His jaw was tense as his eyes began to sting, but he just removed the phone from his ear and ended the call, before tossing the phone to the bed. He roughly ran an open hand along his mouth, jaw, and chin as his mind was whirling in the thoughts he had tried to get off his chest and into that damned phone and he couldn't even finish and resolve it. "Fucking piece of shit.." he muttered, before rolling his eyes at the fact that he was so frustrated that he just cussed out a phone.

He grabbed the files that he had made a stack of. Past jobs he'd been informed of by Sam, or found on his own while traveling. They were finished jobs, but when he had nothing to do, he found himself looking through the files. Just to check and assure himself it had all been solved and fixed, and he even went so far as to call in on some of the people involved. There were never any further attacks, though. The monsters, the ghouls, the ghosts; they learned after that.

But he had to do something to keep busy. He sighed and put them all back into a pile, however messy.

Suddenly, he heard the ringing of his phone. He crossed his room to the bed and hurried to pick it up, seeing the caller ID and answering. "Sam? Another job?"

"No, actually; just a check up call, I was going to ask you the same thing." Sam said from the other end. "Nothing in town?"

"Not that I've gotten wind of, though I'm going out soon to check. How about you? Anything local or are the dorms nice, ghost free and babe-full?" he gave a joke, but it was a bit weak.

"No, Dean.." Sam gave a short laugh. "Well…how are things?"

"Good, good. Awesome."

"Really?" the was obvious disbelief in his tone, but Dean ignored it.

"And how are your studies going, hmm?" he didn't know what else to ask, and really, he didn't totally care. He never cared for school; he only learned what he needed to learn to survive. And though he didn't try any longer to stop Sam from going back to a 'normal' life (at least, the only one he could really live), he still didn't completely like it. More because of the fact that before his return, Sam would have gone on living a second life without a care for his real life. He wants Sam to be happy, of course, but…he can't help but feel the betrayal of being tossed away.

"They're going good, Dean." He assured him, and his voice had the same tone, is was the same careless response. Neither of them wanted to converse about their lives, for whatever individual reasons.

"That's good. Well, if you're done with your check in-"

"Yeah, I gotta get back to some work. I'll call you again when-"

"Whenever, sure. Bye, Sammy." and he hung up without giving much of another chance for Sam to respond. He looked at the time on his phone (six twenty-three) and debated in his mind, what to do… He was still in his old home-town where he'd stayed with Lisa for that year… That uncomfortable, wonderful, agonizing year. He had visited their house for some time, but needed to check for any local activity. But it wouldn't hurt to visit again, would it?

Within minutes, he was pulling on his jacket and grabbing his keys, locking the motel room and walking the balcony until heading down the stairs and to the Impala. And then he was on his way, music turned up and drowning out all other thoughts than the ones he was concerned with; check in on the locals for any stories or attacks, and drive by Lisa's.

* * *

There was no whispers or warnings of trouble, nothing in the papers; Dean even went so far as to go in as an FBI agent and speak with a few of the local police officer's and ask them if there had been anything strange happening around lately (giving the lie that he and his men had heard wind of some traveling trouble). But there was nothing. At all. Almost disappointed, he continued one his route. Next stop was Lisa's house.

And it was just as calm as the other day. He had parked a few houses down, but close enough to keep watch. He couldn't stay long without suspicions rising from neighbors, but he stayed long enough to catch glimpses of Lisa and Ben inside. They were cleaning up for some time before sitting in the living room and watching TV.

He was glad, even if he missed them, that they were happy. And he saw they were. And that's when he thought of Sam… He was happy, too, wasn't he? The life he was living now, he must be happy, or he wouldn't be so desperate for it. So Dean should be happy for him, too. And all those he's lost, even.. Yeah, they were either pissed at him and Sam for ever having gotten involved in all this shit, or they were moving on, free and happy and away from this world full of worry. It was a world worth fighting for, but that didn't make it any brighter in its darkest times.

With all this on his mind, Dean had made his way back to the motel, working like a robot as he arrived, got his things packed and checked out, returning to the car and leaving soon after.

While driving, thought and wonderings ran through his mind. Sometimes he wondered if Castiel was even happy, but he assured himself that he wasn't dealing with too much shit up there. How could they give an angel like Cas a hard time, after all he's tried to do? Yeah, he's failed a few times, but who hasn't?

But Dean's mind always came back to this…. He was alone, and he was unsure. His route out of this town took him by Lisa's again, of course, but there was no change. Still completely normal and safe. He gave a nod in the direction of the house before his eyes were focused on the road. Where next?

His mind ran through all the potential and close towns and cities and states with the possibility of a monster or ghost to deal with.

There was a sudden shuddering sound, like the air being disturbed by-

"Is it not a health-hazard to drive with such little sleep?"

Dean nearly jumped, glancing to the passenger seat even though he knew who he'd see. He then kept his eyes on the road as he calmed. "Damn it, Cas; can you not arrive normally for once?!"

The dark-haired angel in a trench-coat looked side-ways to Dean as he answered. "How can I arrive normally within a moving vehicle?"

Dean rolled his eyes and stayed quiet to show he had no answer to that question, but he eventually spoke again, now letting it set in that the angel was here. "So… What's new upstairs?"

"Nothing." Castiel said simply.

Dean half laughed. "Nothing? We closed the damn gates to Hell and nothing's changed up there? No more sticks taken out of a few feathered asses?"

Castiel shook his head. "There's not much difference in their opinions of most things. They are grateful, but don't expect that to mean they would be kind."

"No, of course not. Because even having a world minus demons, they'll still be dicks with wings. Not including you." Dean sighed.

Castiel was quiet, feeling no need for much of a response, so Dean glanced to him. He had that familiar mix between quizzical, questioning, and bored look on his face as he looked out the front window. And so another question came to his lips.

"What's been going on up there? I mean, you've been gone almost since we closed the gates and that's been months…" he began.

"They've been trying to bring order again. After all that's been done in the past years, they've decided it's time a stand should be taken, and one that fixes the damage instead of creating more. I'm simply thankful they've been more preoccupied with organizing heaven than worrying about me. Instead, they assign me to help, a great deal." Castiel began explaining.

"What, they got you cleaning up the years of messes they've been making up there? Last time a checked, you weren't a janitor."

"I'm cleaning up my own messes, Dean, and I'm not complaining. It's a way to move further towards atoning, and they've stopped taking information from me and wiping my memory of the meeting." Castiel added, but Dean laughed at part of it.

"They haven't had any information to take from you because you haven't been down here to gain anything new!" he remarked.

"I'm barely allowed down here, Dean, that's true… They do want a leash on me, and I am over-worked as punishment…" he glanced down as he fiddled his fingers.

"Punishment? For the messes you made? For your failures? And what, they've never done anything wrong?! Must be nice, up on their high horses, trying to convince themselves their so self-righteous and right. Well, last time I checked, your father has given you how many second chances? You're doing something right in all your wrong, Cas! Maybe it's them who are doing wrong…" he shook his head slightly. The angels could always piss him off, and he definitely wasn't in the best mood. And then he thought for a moment. "…Barely allowed down..? What, do they send you on scout missions or on clean up duty down here?" The thought of Castiel being back on Earth angered him a bit, that was only because of his loneliness he still needed to get used to.

Castiel took a breath, before nodding. "Yes."

Dean had the faint feeling that there was more to it than that, but he shrugged. "Well, they can shove it… So, what are you here for? A job they sent you on?" he questioned. He laughed faintly; would they have Castiel baby-sitting him? Was this the relationship he and his angel friend would have now?

"Just checking in. The motives are mixed, but the reasons for coming are all the same." he informed him.

"…That brings light to the question." Dean responded sarcastically.

Castiel's hand came to his temple suddenly and he sighed, brows furrowed in concentration.

Dean turned his head to look at him, raising a brow slightly before looking back to the road. "Heavenly calling?"

"Yes." Castiel sighed, not even reaction to the sarcasm, he was far too used to it. "At least now, they're informing me and leaving my memory untapped when they check in."

"And at least they're not stopping any of our important shit." Dean said, though he would have liked to actually have time to talk with Castiel. He knew there was more he could be informed about Castiel's current state and about all he was dealing with up there. And damn it, he'd like to have some contact or some company. He wasn't social and he didn't need a normal family, nor could he function with one, but… Couldn't he at least have a brother? A friend? Someone to keep him from the loneliness.

Castiel stayed quiet, though he knew just why he was being called back now. But no, he lied about what it truly was, because there was no use admitting it, was there? "They seem to not only want an update on you and Sam, but more importantly, there is work to be done. Soldiers to be trained."

Dean didn't respond. He was too tired, too pissed, too out of it. He'd vented enough without getting completely angry. "Well; just make sure the boy scouts eat their breakfasts." He gave Castiel a tired and sarcastic smile.

Castiel could barely smile back. "I don't know when and if I'll return again. But if you are in need, call and I'll do my best to come. And I suggest you get rest, it's nearly night."

Dean laughed. "There's barely any attacks anymore, so a normal call wouldn't-" he looked to Castiel, only to find he was gone. He took a breath. "Happen…. Yeah, rest.. Sure, Cas.."

He may be tired, but he could drive much longer. And he would. He turned up the radio louder, drowning it all out in the music as he began singing along. He didn't care what song it was as long as he knew the words. And as long as the thoughts were washed away for now.

* * *

"I believe you were told to keep away from either of the Winchester's, Castiel." Naomi said in an impatient tone, leaning against her desk as Castiel leaned against the wall near the door. "You keep an eye on them when we tell you to. You don't go bonding with your little pets like you used to."

"They are my friends and I do not see any harm to anyone in me speaking with Dean Winchester. He and his brother are of no threat to heaven; if anything, they are an asset!" Castiel spoke up, standing straight and glaring.

"Oh, spare me the praises. You have been told… And you will be told no more than you have to, is that understood? I spared your memories because of the deed you did by assisting in closing the gates; but my appreciation only goes so far."

"You can't affect my memories any longer. You lost that ability." Castiel challenged.

She glared. "I will find ways, Castiel. You keep in line, or I'll find a way to make you."

"Isn't that what you're already doing?"

She stood straight, no longer leaning against the table and began to stalk towards him, but as he did the same with no fear, she slowed and stopped and so did he. "You have been warned about the risk of your relationship with that human, Castiel. From the beginning. You've nearly fallen, only to be given more chances. I think it's about time you show respect and gratefulness for that."

He walked closer to her, caring nothing for personal space, and she didn't seem to either; they both seemed to stare each other down as he stopped a few inches before her, his voice low and threatening almost. "I will show respect and gratefulness to the sole being that deserves it. And that. Is not. You."

She watched him in silence, before giving a short chuckle. She backed up a few steps, turning calmly and walking back to her seat. "As you say, Castiel. Just realize the risks of the path you've been walking for so long. You're nearly to the end… Are you sure you're willing to make it to the destination, with all you'll be leaving behind on that road?"

He glared at her in silence, having no answer. Because truly, he wasn't so sure yet. Instead of answering, he turned and left the white and grey room, not caring if she tried to stop him. He had work to do and the sooner it was done, than…the sooner it could be done. He wondered how long this would go on, but he had to believe it would end eventually. Or should it?

He had too many questions… He was nearly tired of being so answerless, but he tried his best to keep faith. But deep within his mind, a part wondered if Naomi was right. Could anything she said be right? No. He shook his head, stopping and sighing as he stood in a white hall. He was right… The only one he would answer to is one that deserved it and he was sure it was not her.

But would he ever be able to show that respect to the one responsible for all his second chances? And just how is he even supposed to know for sure what was right and what was wrong? He wanted an answer—he'd done enough wrong with the souls when he hadn't had answers then. He just wanted answers…

He wanted to know who he was, and what his damn purpose anywhere was anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Castiel over-saw the training of his younger brothers and sisters. He saw their strength and the honing of it. He saw their grace; their beauty in their true form. A form that was too much for humans, though his vessel could handle it only because of him. He was used as an example at times on lessons of vessels and how to use them, what it's like. He explains the change, how trapped you can feel, and the emotions you might fall prey to.

Other times, they had him explaining and giving examples of how their power was used when in their vessels. All his brothers and sisters seemed intrigued, and didn't seem to notice or mind that he was nearly out of it as he taught them.

He sat by observing after a time, though. He gazed at the beauty of the true forms of his kin. He would never rid himself of the wander of the sight of them all, of even his self. His father had made so many masterpieces, he knew.

But as he basked in it all, as he watched, he wondered to himself, as little as he could without others getting wind of it. He wondered just why it was such a concern to the others what he did with his time. There was nothing the Winchesters or he could do anymore. All higher, threatening power other than heaven was gone. Why couldn't he be left alone?

Did they need him, or would they just rather he not become any closer than he already was with the humans that were to blame for so much destruction, despite what good they've done? What good was Castiel to anyone anymore? He was good for cleaning up messes and helping here and there, nothing more. And yet heaven seemed to have him in a tight hold.

Why would they be so worried about the path he was walking? It wouldn't endanger anyone. And it was his choice, either way… He wondered to himself, would he be defying the wishes of the one being who has given him so many chances? Is that possible? Or has he been pushed to this path all the while?

And in the darkest parts of his mind he wonders if he even cares who is pushing him and where. He is home, but it no longer feels like it. No, instead, he'd rather return to earth. He'd rather return to Dean, to be by his friends' side. Because there, the answers never mattered. The worry to find them washed away. The need for answers was not there.

And he could so easily stay. He could. It would be painful, but it could be done. He could cut out his grace, and he could be free of the chains of heaven.

But how much of himself would he be giving up? How much would he be without, and how much would he gain in return?

His eyes stayed upon his kin as he was bathed in the white-hot light and wonder of heaven.

Would he give up his life for another?

* * *

"Thank you, detective Dallas." the woman gushed to Dean as he was leaving the house of which he had just finished riding of a ghost. Old, vengeful family member kept around by an old locket. No big deal. "I…I can't thank you enough, I-"

"Don't mention it, ma'am." He nodded, not really caring to correct her on the fact that he wasn't a real detective. That must have become apparent by now, but she probably didn't really care for his real identity after what he'd done; which was a relief. No added drama after saving innocent lives. It was one of the changes he was thankful for.

She nodded and smiled, shaking his hand as her husband was comforting and playing with the kids in the other room. It must be their way of rejoicing at being free of the ghost. Dean said his goodbyes and then he was on his way, returning to the Impala. He took a breath and sighed, feeling good. He knew, even if he was unsure of who he was anymore, that he would always be was a hunter. It was too big of a part of his life. It's not something he could ever truly turn away from.

He wasn't as lucky as Sam in that aspect. Speaking of Sam…

As he was driving out of the current county, he pulled his phone from his jacket. He scrolled through the contacts before finding Sam's name and he pressed call, waiting for him to pick up. It took some time and he almost assumed he wouldn't, before he heard the click.

"Dean? What's up?" his voice was heard, a hint of surprise and concern in his voice.

"Hey, Sammy! Hey, thought I'd call and propose a visit." He began then. It was nearly the weekend, Dean had just finished the last job he'd had scheduled, and he was a bit tired of being alone. He needed some kind of contact with someone familiar. "You know, nearly the weekend and I can't remember the last time in the past few months that I've visited. Whataya say?"

Sam cleared his throat on the other end and there was ruffling of papers heard. Dean almost suspected he'd get some explanation why not before Sam finally spoke again. "..Yeah, that actually sounds good, Dean. Where are you now?"

"Ah, only a days' ride away. Its Thursday, I'll make it there and get myself into a hotel by Friday and you can call me when you're free?" he offered.

"That sounds just about perfect. I'll call you Friday then, as soon as I'm free." He agreed. "…It'll be good to see you, Dean."

"Yeah…" Dean smiled smally as he watched the road. "Good ol' Winchester reunion, without all the ghouls, ghosts, and demons. Just promise me no chick-flick moments, alright?"

"Alright." He laughed. "I'll see you then, Dean."

"Yeah, see ya then, Sammy."

"Bye."

When the line went dead, Dean shut his phone and placed it back with his pocket with a satisfied smile. Good. Some time with Sam, to catch up, to look back, to look ahead…and hopefully to help him see ahead. And maybe even to resolve his opinion of Sam's choices. He was looking forward to it.

* * *

Dean had finally arrived at a motel, late Friday. Of course, he could have been there sooner, but he had enjoyed the road a bit more on his way, sleeping in his car when needed before continuing on.

This motel didn't seem as good as the last, not as comfortable, but still, it was comfortable enough. And anyways, he's grown used to the motel's. Spending so much of his life in different rooms of different motel's, it couldn't be helped. You grow used to what's comfortable.

Now that he'd arrived, all he needed was to unpack a few things, grab some grub and wait for Sam's phone call. Though, he should be getting it any minute now. So he settled with unpacking things and bringing them to the room. He would wait to see if Sam wanted to go with him to eat somewhere.

He brought a bag of clothes in, bringing only two weapons and stuffing them away. He took a seat on the end of the bed and grabbed the remote, surfing through channels as he waited. There didn't seem to be much on, at least nothing really entertaining. He had nearly settled on Casa Erotica, wearing a satisfied smirk, until his phone began ringing and in the moment, he hurriedly shut off the TV.

Reaching for his phone, he answered without a pause. "Heey, Sammy! We ready to start this party or what?" he stood from the bed.

"Yeah, Dean.. Listen, I got a few more things I need to do first, ok?" Sam said before Dean could get too excited.

"Ah… Of course. How long do you think you'll be?" Dean asked, feeling a little let down, but he could wait.

"That's just it… I'm not completely sure. I…I was supposed to meet up with a friend. And I'd completely forgot when I'd promised to see you when you visited. And it's not really something I can cancel." He explained.

Now, under any other circumstance, Dean would understand. He would understand completely. But there was something in his voice. Dean could tell, even without seeing his brothers face, he could hear it in his voice that he just didn't really want to meet up with Dean. He'd rather a quick visit then a weekend with his brother. Whether he feared Dean would try and convince him to come back or he had seriously grown tired of him, Dean wasn't for sure.

Oh, but he was sure of one thing. He was going to see his brother.

"Right…right, alright. So, I'll just meet up with you tomorrow. See ya, Sammy." He said and before Sam could get another word, he hung up. He watched his phone for a moment and sighed. He shut it and stuffed it in his pocket. He sat in silence for only another minute, before he stood and grabbed his things again and took them to the car, locking the room behind him and leaving soon after.

After getting a few directions from locals, and enough minutes of riding and singing at the top of his lungs to get some frustration out, Dean arrived at the dorms of Sam's college. He got out of his car, went to sit upon his hood as he sent a text to Sam telling him to come outside.

He sat there whistling, glancing at the students walking the ground, waiting. Finally, he saw a confused Sam walking his way. His brows furrowed, hair longer than ever, he stopped by his brother. After taking a breath, he finally spoke.

"…Dean.. Is something wrong?"

"Hmm? No, not at all." Dean shook his head.

"Then what's up? I thought we were meeting tomorrow." He sounded faintly irritable, but his face seemed tired and impatient.

"Oh? I thought we were meeting today. Seems we're both wrong." He said with his usual attitude of smooth sarcasm. "Sam, look me in the eyes and tell me the truth; would you rather go on without me bugging you any more than necessary?" he began asking.

"Dean, you don't under-" Sam tried to say, but Dean didn't let him finish.

"Would you rather go about your normal-as-physically-possible life, all-but forgetting you even had a brother, and only contact me to check I'm ok?" he raised an eye brow, looking into Sam's eyes when he wasn't glancing away in avoidance and irritation.

"…You really think… I would forget all about you, Dean..? You're my damn brother!"

"I didn't say you would, Sam." He replied calmly. "Hell, I even implied you wouldn't. No, I said…would you rather forget me?"

Sam just glared at him, either too angry to talk or unsure how to answer.

Dean just watched him, the silence assuring him of his thoughts. "…You know what, Sam? Do as you want, ok? You wanna forget me, forget me. You wanna live a normal life, live it. You want to be the man you always dreamed you could be…be him." He stood, tossing up his keys and catching them again. "Just don't put up an act for me anymore. You don't want the life you had, and I'm tired of convincing you that there's no other life."

"So what, I'm wrong for wanting to live like all those people we've saved and fought for?! For wanting to not even know what evil crap is out there?!" Sam said, stepping forward.

"You're an idiot for even believing that's possible!"

The two of them heated, nostrils flared, and glares unchanging, the boys took a moment. Neither of them backed down, though.

Dean turned, shaking his head and heading back to the driver seat.

"…It's not possible for you, Dean… Alright? We've established this enough times, in enough situations. We're different. A sane life may be hard for you…but not for me. So you can either accept it…or you can forget about me yourself…" he said in a tired tone, his brows knotted.

Dean looked to him with eyes that seemed far too heavy; it showed how sometimes, the weight of world seemed to come back to his shoulder every now and then. Or at least, the feeling of it. "…Right. Because you're stronger. Always have been, always will be, right? You can be a better hunter without your soul. You can fight through the worst of hell, hmm? You can resist the angel just waiting to wear you, longer than me. Oh, and you can be alone. Right, of course. And I can't." he shook his head.

"I'm not saying that I'm better, Dean, just different!"

"Well, that doesn't really make things better!" Dean countered. He took a deep breath through his nose. "Just forget it, Sam. Forget it all and live your life. Despite all the anger I hold against…against everything in this situation… I do want you to be happy. So forget it. I'll let you be happy, and I'll learn how to be alone. I just needed to decide that, I guess." He opened the car do, climbing in and ignoring Sam's protests and calls of his name.

"Dean, would you listen to me?!" he came to the window.

"What more can you say?" he raised a brow at him. "What else is there to say on either end?"

Sam struggled, a look of anger and just a bit of sadness or pain on his face, but no words came.

"I'll call when I can…or text, to let you know I'm alright. Just live your life Sam, I'll live mine." Dean ended saying, yanking the door shut and revving the engine as a way of warning Sam to back away. He pulled out and soon enough, he was driving away. He didn't even glance into any of the mirrors to get a last look at Sam. He couldn't.

He needed to get used to it. In leaving most others behind. He needed to learn to be alone, since he truly has no other place here. No…real place he fits in with others. He clings to a life he hates and yet can't live right without. And he can't drag anyone else into it.

* * *

The snarl of the vampire could be heard, but the blood-sucker couldn't be seen. Dean has his weapon ready, he just needed an opening to slice it's head off. Of course, it's not as easy as wanting it to happen. But since when does a hunter ever expect it to be easy?

Dean took time to calm himself after a few frustrating moments of trying to find the sucker. Now, he was taking breaths and focusing on listening to every movement he could hear. There weren't many. This guy was being careful. But they slip up at some point. Always. He just had to keep patience.

He only walked in circled in the one room, waiting for the vamp to come at him, or for him to hear the sound of him leaving.

Until suddenly, it seemed the vampire was deciding to have a little fun. Because the next thing Dean knew, he was being rammed, scratched and pushed from all angles. He kept trying to stand his ground, but when that kept failing, he decided to stay down and try and catch sight of his enemy.

And it seemed the vampire stopped then, knowing his choice, and he was sneaking again.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean jumped, falling forward in surprise and turning to see the angel in the trench-coat. He was confused as to why he was here, but didn't think to ask. No, is mind was in hunter-mode. "I need your help, man…" he whispered, "so stay quiet, and keep your eyes open…"

Castiel glanced around the room, his blue eyes focused as his brows furrowed. "…Vampire?" he inquired quietly.

Dean nodded. He glanced around the room, watching the doors into the hall, to the other rooms, to the kitchen, and even the window as he stood and walked backwards towards Castiel. Once he stopped by the angel's side, he glanced to him and begin whispering again while he kept his eyes open and alert. "Alright… I need you to do your angel thing, alright? Chase the fucker back in here and leave him to me." He turned to look at Castiel to be assured he would do so, but almost jumped back again, only because they were unnaturally close.

Though, it was natural for them to have an invading of personal space, but he just wasn't used to it lately. Castiel didn't seem to care, though. He nodded at Dean's words, eyes always locked on Dean's, before he was suddenly gone.

Dean moved back to the middle of the room, gripping his weapon tighter in his hand. It was silent once more, but only for a short time. Soon, he heard the snarling again, and it was becoming more of a hiss and one of anger. He even thought he heard a body hit a wall. He wondered what was going on, but didn't think on it long.

Because, in the next second, a scrawny but vicious man in jeans and a jacket, a mouth looking distorted with the unnatural teeth of a vampire, busted through one of the door and ran for the window. He tried to slash at Dean, but he jumped back. Suddenly Castiel was in front of the vampire. He rammed his fist into his stomach and the vampire doubled over. He gripped his arm, twisting it behind his back and keeping him bent over.

Just long enough and at the perfect angle to Dean to cut off his head before he had another chance to attack or flee. The head rolled and hit the opposite wall as Castiel let the body fall to the ground.

Dean took a deep breath and sighed. "Wooooo…! Now that's team work." He laughed, patting Castiel's shoulder. "Should probably get rid of this guy." He began, but Castiel picked up the body and head, disappearing, only to reappear seconds later. "…Thanks."

Castiel nodded, taking a breath before letting it out. "..Are you alright, Dean? I visited Sam and…he informed me that you two aren't on good terms anymore."

Dean shook his head, laughing softly, weakly. "We've never been on good terms, Cas. Tolerable terms, yeah. Good? Nope." He grabbed a gun he'd dropped earlier, as well as his bag, putting away the gun and the blade as well once he cleaned it off on his shirt. "Nah, I just gave him the out he's been waiting for. We're not supposed to be together anymore, Cas. And I'm not fooling myself any longer." He threw the bag over his shoulder. "Sam can live a normal life, and he'll be complete and happy with all that brings."

He began walking out of the building, Castiel following curiously as he listened. "Me and you? We're meant to return to the lives we used to live. We're not meant for anything else… No change, just the usual. We just have to get used to it, right?" he had made it out into the yard of the old house they'd just been in. He turned to look back at Castiel, who had stopped a few feet away. "You'll feel right at home in heaven in no time, and… I'll be back to being alone." He nodded, moving to toss his bag in the back seat.

"…Heaven's hasn't felt like home in years, Dean…" Castiel finally spoke and Dean could tell in his voice, he wasn't exactly happy. No, he wasn't at all. He was unhappy with what he was dealing with, Dean could see and hear it. He didn't want to be a part of heaven, possibly…at least not how he was right now. That's what Dean could assume.

He walked his way to Castiel as the angel watched him. "Can I ask why, Cas?"

"Why what?" he questioned curiously.

"Why so many things…" he began. "Why are you here now, huh? When you're not supposed to be? I mean, that is a rule for you, isn't it? You're not allowed to leave home and hang out with your friends." He laughed weakly.

Castiel averted his eyes a bit. "For the usual, idiotic reasons that would merit me losing my status as an angel. I cannot be any closer to you than I've already been. I believe they're trying to not only keep our bond from becoming stronger, they're trying to weaken it."

Dean raised a brow. "Hmm, someone's pissed; you never explain this much." Castiel gave him a look, but Dean didn't worry about it. "My other question; why are you even dealing with them? Why should you have to? You've told me enough times…that you think your father…that God has been on your side, supporting you and pushing you in the right direction. And you've done so much, good and bad, that has had an effect on this world. And yet you're still pushed around. You're still a soldier waiting for commands. That doesn't make sense to you, does it?"

"It's how it is, Dean. Heaven's never been some simple, happy place for angels. We ARE soldiers, and that's all we'll ever be." Castiel informed him. He seemed to turn slightly and Dean knew, he was going to leave.

"Don't you dare, damn it." He said harshly. "Don't you leave me. I am not done talking to you, and your brothers and sister can wait a damn minute. Don't you dare leave me alone, Cas."

Castiel looked back to him as if he felt tormented.

Dean licked his lips before rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. "…Why can't you stay?" he asked, suddenly the anger at loneliness irritating me and bugging him. "Or is this my lesson? To learn to be alone, huh? It seems to falling to place just perfectly."

"Dean…" Castiel began, looking at him tiredly, but also apologetically. "If I have answers…I'd-"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Just go, Cas." He leaned forward over the hood.

Castiel watched him, and it seemed his own anger overtook him. Anger at what, he couldn't narrow it down. "Do you even trust that I would fit into your life if I was a part of it permanently, Dean? Do you believe that?"

"You know what, yeah. I believe you'd have a pretty damn good chance of fitting into you. Maybe more than Sam at this point." He turned to look at him. "I'd even say better! Yeah, Sam can be a good hunter, but his heart's not in it. Obviously."

"Do you really believe your words, Dean?"

"Yes, I do." He glared. "You don't believe me?"

Castiel just watched him. "…No, I just can't, Dean. I don't have the luxury."

Dean's brows furrowed and he was about to give a retort, but Castiel was gone in seconds. His nostrils flared and anger building, Dean kicked at the ground, pebbles and dirt flying a few feet and he yelled intentionally at the top of his longs, "God damn it!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean's jobs were coming less these days, which didn't please him. By the end of the week, he had finished all his jobs, with no coming jobs ahead. None. Nothing from any hunter's he's met along the way and given his number too, nor anything from Sam. Then again, he didn't expect or want anything from Sam. At least, not currently.

But he even went so far as to search himself instead of ask about it from other hunters or any local authorities. But there was nothing close.

So, to keep himself from being too angry at the lack of work, he decided he should take this time to catch up on sleep. And that's exactly what he did. And there, he did hunt…which could or couldn't help his situation and patience.

Right now, he was reliving a hunt instead of going through a slightly warped one (those were themed after actually hunts he'd been on, just changed enough to be unique). This was the job he'd went on with Sam where they'd come across the ghost killing people through water sources. He remembered the kid, the one who'd lost his father.

He was walking his way down a path in the woods close by the kids house, but there was no one with him. This felt unfamiliar and it confused him.

"Hello, Dean."

He jumped as he turned, and he knew then that this was a dream. But he wondered, as Castiel's starring in his dream, or was he speaking to him? He'd only spoke to him through his dreams a few times, and when Castiel appeared in Dean's dreams, it was more current dreams. Dreams where his presence made sense.

"Cas? …What are you doing here?" he asked, lowing his shotgun that he had in hand.

"I'm here to speak with you. I cannot currently leave heaven…" he informed him.

Dean took a breath and sighed, relaxing. He glanced around. The farther the scenery went, the more blurry or distorted it became. It wasn't like this before… it was as clear as it had been when it had actually happened. "..So, what's up, Cas?"

He watched Dean, before looking away, his brows knitting together. He paced for a moment, trying to find a way to begin to express all he intended to.

"…You know, to speak…usually your mouth opens and sound comes out." Dean said after too much silenced paced. He walked closer to Castiel then. There were few times he saw Castiel in this state; confused, and seemingly worried. And he was struggling to speak about whatever was so urgent that his dreams had to be entered. "Cas, what's wrong?"

Castiel finally looked to Dean again. "I'm…tired, Dean."

He knew that wasn't the only thing Castiel needed to get off his chest. He raised a brow, coming closer. "What, they don't let you soldier's nap upstairs?"

"No, they don't Dean. But I don't mean physically tired, as you get. I mean…I'm.. I'm tired of everything." He admitted, as all the pressures of who he was swarmed his mind. An angel, a soldier, a sinner, and some damned hope of his Father, God, or else some example to all others. He was tired of all of it weighing on his shoulders. "I'm tired of giving all I have and never….feeling satisfied with it in the end. There seems to be…nothing that is truly a payment worthy of what we've done, what all we've given. And perhaps this is payment, I don't know…" he paced as he was beginning to ramble. "I'm tired of calling heaven 'home' when it feels nothing of the sort." He looked into Dean's eyes then.

Dean was taking all this in, and as he listened, he worried just where Castiel's mind was going. He remembered, once, that Castiel said he hadn't wanted to go back to heaven. He didn't want to see the damage he'd done, because he believed he'd kill himself over it. Was it finally weighing on him? He stopped before Castiel and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey… Cas, what…whatever you're feeling, it's just the affect of all this on your mind. Hell, it's probably good you talk about this shit every not and then. But we'll find an answer. We'll find…some way to fix what's wrong; we ain't earning what we deserve for what we've sacrificed? We'll take it."

"…I've found an answer, Dean. I've had this answer…in the back of my mind for some time now…. But I've questioned whether it is truly the best choice. But I'm beginning to think it's the only one."

"Cas…" Dean was worried now. "If this…has anything to do with you…wanting to kill yourself like you..told me about, that won't help a thing. Not a single thing, no matter how promising it seems, it won't-"

"I don't intend to kill myself, Dean, I intend to cut out my grace and fall from heaven." Castiel said, cutting Dean's words short. "That is why I am here… Why I had to come to speak with you."

Dean was confused. It was a relief, and yet, this didn't seem to be any bit of a better choice. "You want to fall? Cas, what good will that do? Your mojo will be all-but gone, you'll be vulnerable..! I'd do my best, man, but I don't… I don't know how long I could protect you from your brothers if they ever wanted to come after you. Why would you want to fall?"

Castiel shook his head, a weak laugh suddenly coming from him, and Dean saw just a glimpse of the Castiel of the future he'd met once. The hippie, drug and sex addicted Castiel who had given up on the world and the good he could still do for it. This angered him. That Castiel had lost hope. He would not allow his friend to lose hope. Dean shoved his shoulder then.

"Cas, I'm not kidding!"

"And neither am I, Dean! You have your hell down here, and I have my own above!" Castiel barked and Dean all-but backed away in surprise. "I have to pay penance for sins it feels I can never make up for! I am still the same soldier, the same tool, the same servant under the higher ranks of my kin, doing the same damned work! I have no shred of an idea why my Father has brought me back again and again—no idea, for what purpose, why I am still here! I feel less like an Angel than ever now, I don't even know who I am anymore!"

Dean watched him, swallowing hard at those words, which he understood all too well.

"Things matter to me, and then they drift away, becoming unimportant. The only constant important single thing I know of anymore is you, Dean… It's you. Through what all I've done, I've done my best to help you… To keep you safe…to see the world the way you do, because it's begun to make more sense to me… You are more like family to me than any of my brothers have ever been, Dean." Castiel's voice was softer then, and Dean as surprised to see just how much emotion was being shown from the Angel. Of course, Castiel has been showing more human tendencies the longer he's been around the Winchesters, but Dean had never seen so much emotion at one time reflected in that face…in those blue eyes that seemed more like stormy waters. "I'm tired….of trying, and dying, only to be brought back to try again… Dean, I'm tired of who I am…"

"Cas, stop right there." Dean began to try and reason with him. "Who you are, is a friend to me; a good friend, who has fucked up like any other. Shit is always gonna suck, but we push through it. Family always does. You ARE family to me. And I'm not letting you give up, man."

"It's my choice, Dean." was Castiel's response, and his voice was stern.

"…Then why the hell are you here, huh?" Dean asked, angry now. "Why the hell would you unload all this to me if you had already decided?"

"Because I need to know if you'd be there to catch me when I fell, Dean." Castiel's eyes were downcast, but he continued to speak. "You are…the only happiness I find in this world anymore, the only thing that makes sense, the only person I can stand by…who makes me feel at home." He looked into Dean's confused eyes. "And all that means too much for me to ignore. All of that cannot be ignored. Naomi will not tell me what I can and cannot feel. If I find sense and purpose at your side, then the bitch can kiss my ass."

"...You spend TOO much time around me…" he said, only able to make fun of his use of profanity. He was still confused.

"I said once our bond was profound." He said then, ignoring the joke. "Our bond is the only one that seems to matter in my mind anymore, in the end. More than anything, I wish I could make up for my sins…against you. I, at times, don't feel I truly did. My attempts to keep you safe from the leviathans wasn't enough, but even that was payment, I just couldn't…"

Dean watched him, his brows knitted as he watched the angel struggle, but he glanced up and noticed that the blur of the scenery was stronger now. He was becoming more confused by that.

"I know how alone you feel, Dean, and I feel it as well." Castiel eyes and words cut Dean deep then. "But I never feel that with you. Can you stand there and tell me that when we have chance to be together, the pain and weight doesn't go away, even for some time…?"

Dean couldn't answer, he only nodded. He tried to speak, but couldn't get the words.

"I realize now, why I am not allowed to be at your side."

"Yeah, why is that?" he was able to speak then, though his voice was weak.

"I love you Dean, and that is not allowed of an angel. It's an emotion I don't know how to handle, and it's a one that leaves me to make choices I could regret, should they grow stronger. Naomi wished to prevent that, that's why she keeps me so busy and away from you."

"…Y-you mean, like a brother? Come on, man, y'all are all kin up there! You have to feel SOME degree of love." Dean said, but he had a feeling he was wrong.

"Dean…you know it's more than that." The angels voice was softer then. "I am not allowed these emotions, while I'm an angel… But I've lost all reason to still be one. I have nothing…nothing tying me to this life anymore, and all but everything pulling me towards yours." Suddenly, the angel was removing his jackets as he back away from Dean a good distance. He tossed them to the ground around them, which seemed to be changing. It was like sand but…almost golden, mist suddenly flowing from the blurry distance and whisping across the ground. It seemed like a mix of milk and honey.

"Cas, what's going on?" Dean asked. Behind the angel, a light seemed to be slowly glowing. It was then, Dean saw it—it was like a long, carving knife, but it seemed as if it was made from the same as the Angel-Blades. He undid his tie, yanking it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. "Cas…!"

Behind the angel, the strange image of wings spread wide from his back, expanding. They were black as they stretched from his back, but it grew dark blue, then lighter until the tips were covered in white. Dean was awestruck at the sight of the wings he'd only had chance to glance shadows of before. It was only with the white tips began the glow, the light behind Castiel glowing brighter, and the sound of his screams brought Dean back to attention.

Castiel had begun carving into his stomach. He moaned, even yelped at the pain, but he didn't stop, didn't hesitate. The light behind him grew bright as the blue/white light shown from his stomach. The light was beginning to consume his wings slowly in white fire, as the white light spread, consuming the scenery completely and leaving it burning in blinding light. Dean covered his eyes, feeling his close burn away, leaving the flowing mist the caress his skin. He looked, nearly blinded and yet not…as the fire left the warning of burns but did not scorch him.

"Cas, stop..!" he yelled.

Castiel hesitated for a moment, huffing from the pain as blood flowed from his wounds and a bit from the edge of his mouth. He looked at Dean then, his eyes glowing a light blue, tears streaming with sweat down his face. "…Be there…when I fall…?" he strained to ask.

"..C-Cas, don't…!" Dean said, almost in denial of what was happening. Let this be a dream, only a dream. But he began moving then. He ran to the angel, trying to stop him as his cries of pain started again along with the carving. The light burned brighter and brighter, pulsing to the sound of the angel's cries.

"CAS!" Dean had finally reached him, but the light blurred his vision and he couldn't stop him in time.

"..D-DEAN!"

The last thing Dean saw as the light faded was the naked angel, arms spread out wide. His wings hand been consumed and only white and black feather floated through the air now. The blue/white light from Castiel's wounds had dissipated into the mist at their feet. Behind Castiel, black mist swarmed.

Dean tried to reach for Castiel, just as the wounded Angel reached for him. The bright blue eyes faded as his eyes shut and he fell. His hands slipped from Dean's at the last second, and before Dean could stop it, Castiel was consumed by the dark mist.

"Damn it, CAS!"

Dean sat up straight in bed, huffing, sweating. His body was warm, as if he'd truly experienced the white fire. He gasped, running his hands through his hair as he tried to collect himself. The pounded of his heart in his ears lessened and that when he realized there was the sounds for car horns and alarms going off.

He jumped out of bed, still dressed, with only his jacket to cover him. He tossed it to the ground and busted through the door. He already heard the mumbles of confusion of the other room inhabitants. They had gather around the streets, where smoke simmered and billowed. He ran to the people, pushing past them. "Get out of the way!"

Lying there on the ground was a man, no longer an angel. He lay there, in only his torn white shirt and black pants, a recent scar torn across his stomach, still slightly bleeding. His arms lay spread out, reminding Dean of his dream. Shatter glass of the street lamps fell around him, reaching out far and scattered across the ground to poetically imitate the wings Dean knew he lost… They shimmered in the light of the night.

"Cas…" he muttered, his voice thick as he kneeled beside him. He pulled Castiel into his arms, the fallen angel lying limp there. "..Cas, come on, you stupid fucker…."

"Should I…c-call an ambulance…?" a woman suggested.

"You should have done that before instead of gawking, damn it!" Dean retorted and the woman backed away, turning and beginning to dial.

"Cas, wake up…Cas!"

Suddenly, he gasped, as if taking his first breaths of life. His eyes flew open and the last remnants of that blue light faded away completely. His eyes darted everywhere, as if in fear. He gripped at Dean's shirt, at his hold upon him.

Dean held him securely. "Cas, it's me. It's Dean, it's alright buddy..!"

"Dean..! D-dean…!" he muttered shakily. "…Who…who is Dean…?" he looked into the hunters eyes then as Dean felt himself go cold. "…Who's Cas…? What…what happened to me..?!"

Dean shook his head only faintly. No, this couldn't be happening. Was it Jimmy…? No, Jimmy knew Cas, this didn't make sense!

"…Who am I?"


End file.
